The Vought Grand Ballroom.
A glass box built with champagne and lies.
Everyone wore a carefully crafted smile, and every word of congratulation had a hidden price tag.
Rorschach stood in the Shadow of the corner, like a stain that could not be bleached by light.
His trench coat smelled of rain and the streets, completely out of place here.
He doesn't need to fit in.
His attention was fixed on the other end of the banquet hall.
A woman with short pink hair was leaning against the buffet table, her posture appearing extremely out of place with her surroundings.
Even though she was wearing a suit, she still couldn't hide her fierce and courageous nature that belonged to the streets.
Wei.
She didn't chat with the suited businessmen or the pretentious celebrities; she simply focused on the food on her plate, her movements bold and decisive, displaying a nonchalant efficiency.
A bloated man approached with a wine glass in hand, his face slick with the slickness of a businessman.
"Wei! Well done! You're a true pioneer for the Chengdong District project!"
The man's voice was loud, attracting the attention of several people around him.
"Your punch has kept the New York City reconstruction department busy for half a year! You're a hero!"
Wei stopped chewing and looked up.
Her expression was calm, but something dangerous flashed in her eyes, too fast to be detected.
She didn't laugh; she simply swallowed the food in her mouth.
"They do things for money."
She gave a brief reply, then looked down and continued working on the steak on her plate.
The man choked for a moment, but immediately laughed again. "Haha, direct! I like it! Vought International needs direct heroes like you!"
He took a small metal card out of his pocket and handed it to Wei.
"This is an extra bonus the government applied for for you. They said your combat footage broke records for online views."
Wei glanced at the card.
She was silent for a moment, then reached out and took it, casually stuffing it into her pocket without saying thank you or glancing at the man again.
Feeling bored, the man shrugged and turned to join a more lively group of people.
Wei's movements did not stop.
She noticed the persistent gaze.
She looked in that direction, following her instincts, and saw only a blurry silhouette of someone wearing a trench coat and a top hat.
The man quickly turned around and disappeared behind a door leading to a terrace.
Rorschach pushed open the glass door and stepped onto the terrace.
The hustle and bustle of the banquet was left behind, leaving only the cold wind blowing over the city.
He walked to the railing, below which lay the brightly lit city, a circuit board teeming with countless desires.
He took his personal terminal out of the inside pocket of his trench coat.
The screen lit up, displaying Wei's profile.
[Task ID: E743]
[Executor: Wei]
[Mission Objective: Destroy an illegal arms deal in the Bronx ]
[Operation Log: Vi used Hextech Gauntlets to penetrate three abandoned buildings, causing large-scale structural damage to the target area]
[Financial Settlement: Estimated urban damage losses: $7.4 million. Vought Construction subsidiary undertook reconstruction contracts: $19 million]
Net profit: US$11.6 million
[Executor's Bonus (already paid): US$150,000]
On the terminal screen, similar records scrolled upwards.
Every instance of "just enforcement" corresponds to a lucrative reconstruction contract.
She could earn a $100,000 reward for smashing a gangster's car. But she never cared where the drugs in the car ended up.
She can get 150,000 yuan for destroying a den.
But she never investigated who the buyers of those weapons were.
Her anger, her Iron Fist, her sense of justice—all were quantified into a series of numbers, becoming a highlight in the Vought International's financial report.
Besides the company, the New York government can also make a profit.
Rorschach shut down the terminal.
The conclusion has been reached.
He took out the notebook and pen wrapped in oilcloth, and by the light of the city, began to write.
Rorschach's Diary.
November 5th.
Observation target: Nycticeae.
A law enforcement officer from the grassroots level, seemingly hating evil. But her anger has a clear price tag.
The company allowed her to damage city infrastructure during law enforcement because Vought's construction companies could secure reconstruction contracts.
Every punch she throws contributes to the company's financial report.
She wasn't standing up for justice; she was just doing the highest-paying job.
Her Iron Fist were hard, but her soul was soft.
A qualified product.
After finishing writing, he closed the notebook and put it back in his inner pocket.
Just then, a lazy greeting came from behind him.
"Hello."
Rorschach did not turn around.
He could sense the other person approaching.
"The weirdo in the trench coat."
Wei's voice came from behind him. She was also leaning against the railing, a few steps away from him.
She was still holding the plate in her hand.
Why are you staring at me?
Rorschach slowly turned around to face her.
On his ink-stained mask, the patterns are flowing silently, transforming into complex symmetrical designs.
He did not answer.
Silence itself is an answer.
Wei poked at a small piece of cake on her plate with her fork. "I hate being stared at, especially in a place like this." She popped the cake into her mouth and chewed. "Let me guess, which department are you in? Strategic Operations Department? Doesn't seem like it, you don't have that scumbag vibe. Public Relations? Even less likely."
She looked him up and down.
Internal Security and Risk Control Department.
She made her judgment.
"I've seen your file, Rorschach, haven't I?"
She took a step forward.
The distance has been shortened.
"They say you're Selene's mad dog, in charge of handling the company's internal garbage."
Her words were direct and unadorned.
"So, are you looking at me to assess my risk level?"
Wei asked again, her left hand unconsciously clenching into a fist, a habitual action left over from long-term use of boxing gloves.
Or do you think I'm trash too?
Her expression sharpened, and the ruthlessness she had developed on the streets of Zaun emanated from beneath her expensive suit.
Rorschach remained silent.
His mask was facing her, the ink stain interrogating everyone who looked at it.
"Not going to speak?"
"Fine. I don't like nonsense either."
She casually placed the plate she was holding on the terrace table next to her, making a soft "clink" sound.
"I don't care whose dog you are, and don't even try to smell me."
She moved closer until they were only a step apart.
She was slightly shorter Rorschach, but she was in no way inferior in terms of presence.
"If you look at me like that again, I'll rip your head out of that damn mask."
Rorschach's Diary.
November 5th.
Continued.
Observation target: Nycticeae.
Conclusion: A handy tool.
A product with a precise price.
She came from the lower class and hated evil.
The company exploited her hatred, turning every punch she threw into a business deal.
There is a crack in her soul.
On one side is what she believes to be justice, and on the other is the reality she is unwilling to acknowledge.
She wasn't afraid of death. She was afraid of becoming like those she hated.
A crack means it can be broken.